Disclaimer: I own none of the canon characters in this story nor the world in which it takes place, I own only the array of many OC's I have created. all credit for canon characters and the land of Skyrim goes to Bethesda Game Studios.
The night was alive with the sight of dragonfire.
The city's outskirts burned like dry wood, men, women, and children alike sprinted attempting to save their valuables and retreat behind the city walls.
Whiterun was amok with fire and turmoil.
The guards lined wall of the city, bows in hand and an arrow ready at string, dozens and dozens of men stood atop the battlements each fearing for their lives but also determined to protect the lives of their loved ones.
Dragonfire, Mychael thought as he stood along the walls with his brethren. By the gods, how can we stop it? He thought.
Commander Caius made his way to the top of the battlements, followed by Irileth, the Jarl's houscarl. Mychael turned to see the look in the commander's eyes, they did not please him.
Fear, he thought. He fears dragons, just like the rest of us.
Mychael's face was what most women would say, pleasant to look upon, he was in his early twenties and his long blonde hair went down to his upper back. His stubble was freshly shaven and his face showed no sign of scars or blemish. He had felt a great amount of fear when he joined the guards at the wall, he feared dragons, all his life the bards would sing of dragons and their prowess. He had never thought he would have to judge the tales for himself.
The gates of Whiterun closed as the last of the civilians retreated into the city. Mychael winced at the sound the great wooden doors made when they shut, never to open again for quite some time.
The waiting is killing me. He thought.
"Wait…do you see that, Commander?" Irileth said, never taking her eye of the outskirts.
Mychael saw too. By the nine.
From the darkness emerged dozens and dozens of creatures Mychael could not make out from the distance, but they looked familiar, like something he had seen in the crypts while trying to get the Jagged Crown with Legate Rikke Before he was stationed in Whiterun.
"Draugr," Commander Caius spoke under his breathe, but Mychael heard him. The more Mychael looked at them, the more he found a resemblance, their bony pail body glowing from the nearby flames.
"Notch!" Commander Caius shouted the order, Mychael acted without question; reaching for an arrow from his quiver and notching it at once.
"Draw!" he shouted again.
Mychael drew the string of his bow in unison with the other guards of the wall. The noise blocking out the crackle of dragonfire. Mychael tried to concentrate, picking a target in the darkness.
Without question all of the guards and imperial soldiers loosed the arrows from their bows, sending dozens of Draugr flailing to the ground, the light of their eyes extinguished. Mychael traced his arrow as it sent a Draugr to its knees.
"Notch. Draw. Loose!" The Commander of the guard roared out again, and the soldiers did as they were bid once more, sending another storm of arrows upon the Draugr, who were slowly advancing towards the cities wall.
Another volley of arrows had been launched from the guards, but the Draugr themselves had aligned their archers and began to fire upon the guard, several men were pierced and fell from the top of the walls, left to be finished by either the long fall or the approaching Draugr.
The night was filled with arrows. The Draugr had made their way to the drawbridge, but soon had realized that the lever was nowhere to be found, a second group of Draugr had climbed up the battlements to come across the lever.
The guards had turned their attention to the lever, letting loose their arrows upon the Draugr, protecting the drawbridge. But more and more came until there were too many to shoot down.
One of the Draugr grabbed hold of the drawbridge lever and pulled it back, activating the bridge.
Talos help us. Mychael thought.
"Swords!" Commander Caius yelled, and Mychael drew his blade from its sheathe and the guard did the same.
"Hold the gate!" Commander said as the guards made their way to the gate, hoping to defend it from the Draugr as they drew closer.
The two groups met with a clash of steel, armor crunched and blood was spilt. Mychael made an attempt to not dent his new armor, but that was not the case.
He ducked as a great sword came for his head; he rose and took his blade, slicing it across the Draugr's chest, sending it to the ground. But it rose again, and when it came upon its feet it attempted to stab at Mychael, but he was too quick.
Mychael danced sideways and returned with another strike with his steel, and a great gash came upon the side of the Draugr, sending it on the ground once more, never to get up.
The battle grew ill, for every Draugr killed, five came. Many of the guards had met death upon the foot of the gates, but the Commander still held them at bay, Irileth slashed and pierced any of the undead Nords she could find, sending the others flying with her lightning bolts.
Rrrrooooaaar! Mychael heard in the distance. Kynareth save us, here it comes.
The Dragon flew above the battle scene, its scales a dark brown, its fangs long and intimidating. And Its eyes shone bright in the darkness of night, a light green; it let loose it's dragonfire from its maw. Illuminating the rider upon it.
It was a man, not a Draugr, but a man with odd clothes Mychael had never seen, his face was hidden by a mask with to tusk like object coming from the bottom, and its color seemed to be gold like.
The dragon flew down and let loose its fire upon a crowd of soldiers still upon the wall. Mychael could hear their screams from the gate. The dragon then swooped down and took a number of soldiers with its claws, flew up and then let them go in the sky, sending them falling to their deaths.
"Fall back to the city! To Dragonsreach!" the commander shouted, and the guards in the city opened the gate; the men rushed in, and the gates closed quickly to keep the Draugr from coming in.
Mychael ran, following Irileth as she hurried to Dragonsreach with three guards following.
The Dragon landed in front of the gate, the Draugr clearing out of the way for the Dragon, Mychael turned to hear as the rider shouted.
"Kill everyone, but save me the Dovahkiin!"
The Dragonborn, but no one has seen him in years. Mychael thought. Not even the Companions knew where the Dragonborn was.
The Dragon rammed its head into the gate, breaking it open as the Draugr rushed in; killing the guards that had ran inside. Commander Caius lead a welcoming party for the Draugr, but had soon diminished, and Commander Caius had been struck down by the enemy.
Mychael sprinted up the steps of Dragonsreach, Irileth lead the sortie, with the remaining guards following her. Mychael did not notice as his legs grew considerably tired with each step, but he kept on, his will to reach Dragonsreach pushing him forward.
"Through the doors, quickly!" Irileth shouted as she pushed open the large doors of Dragonsreach, exposing the hall. Jarl Balgruuf the Great stood from his chair, clad in his steel plate armor.
"Well?" The Jarl asked.
"The city has fallen; we must leave through the underground routes at once." Irileth said.
"No, I will not yield the city; the gate must be retaken." Jarl Balgruuf said.
"My Lord, the gate is overrun, our numbers are too few; we will be quickly overwhelmed and it will only lead to more deaths." Irileth said boldly.
Jarl Balgruuf sighed, grabbing his steel war axe from the table before him, "Let's go."
"Farengar, Proventus, come on!" Irileth said.
"Everyone, and you too, Companions." Balgruuf said.
Mychael saw her, the fabled Aela the Huntress, behind her were all the other members of the Companions, Vilkas and Farkas, the famed brothers, and everyone else.
"Come, my lord; we must go through the underground paths, I believe there is one in your quarters."
The group went on, Mychael followed behind, heading to the entrance of the escape paths, escaping the destroyed city of Whiterun.
The Dragonborn, we have to find the Dragonborn. Mychael thought.